


Passport

by WrathoftheStag (Mwuahna)



Series: Their Life in France [2]
Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Hannibal Loves Will, Hannigram - Freeform, Idiots in Love, M/M, New Relationship, Will Loves Hannibal, new identities, post Wrath Of The Lamb
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-08
Updated: 2016-09-08
Packaged: 2018-08-13 22:00:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,118
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7987690
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mwuahna/pseuds/WrathoftheStag
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Will and Hannibal begin their new lives together.  New lives require new passports.  Domestic fluff within their burgeoning relationship.  Same AU as the Paris series -- way before their trip.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Passport

**Author's Note:**

> _There is nothing more miserable in the world than to arrive in paradise and look like your passport photo. - Erma Bombeck_

“Shall I say ‘Say Cheese?’” Chiyoh asked dryly as she pointed her camera at Hannibal who sat in front of her.

“No, I think no cheese is necessary,” Hannibal replied, and cleared his throat ready for his picture to be taken.

“Very well. One, two, three.” The shutter clicked.

“How do I look?” he asked as she reviewed the image.

“Like you, but not quite,” she replied with the smallest of smiles.

Will had been adjusting his hair in the mirror, while they finished. He was still not used to seeing himself clean shaven. The newest scar added to his inventory of damaged flesh was still a bright pink. He gently ran his index finger across it.

Hannibal walked up behind him, both now appearing in the mirror. A soft smile spreading across Hannibal’s face as his eyes met Will’s in their reflection. The two, identically different.

“Are you ready for your portrait?” Hannibal asked.

Will turned to look at him, “I supposed this is my very first portrait as Martin, isn’t it?”

Hannibal squeezed Will’s shoulder lightly, while Will instinctively placed his hand on top of Hannibal’s. Chiyoh sighed exaggeratedly, waving her camera. 

Will walked over and sat on the stool, while Hannibal changed the background from blue to white.

“All set,” Hannibal said as he stood next to Chiyoh to watch.

“I don’t need an audience,” Will said, beginning to turn bright red.

“Nonsense,” Hannibal responded with a smirk.

“So should _I_ say cheese?” Will said trying to make Chiyoh crack a smile.

“No,” she replied and pressed the shutter.

“I wasn’t ready!” 

Hannibal chuckled, “Chiyoh.”

+

“The forger should have these done by next week. We paid top price for these passports, so I know they will be good. I have seen his work before,” Chiyoh said as she packed up her camera. She was a good shot in many ways, not just with a rifle.

“How do you know this person?” Will asked.

“I know people,” was Chiyoh’s only response.

“Thank you, Chiyoh, again, for all of your assistance,” Hannibal said as he walked her to the door.

The instant the door closed behind her, Will was on Hannibal. His arms wrapped around Hannibal’s waist, while his head found rest on his shoulders -- Will’s newest favorite place to place his head...well, _second_ favorite.

**+++**

The following week, Chiyoh returned to Hannibal and Will’s apartment with the passports in hand. Will opened the door and greeted Chiyoh with a kiss on the cheek. It was a habit he had quickly picked up during their short time in Argentina.

Chiyoh began to notice that she really didn’t mind so much. As long as he continued to make Hannibal happy, Will Graham would stay out of her cross hairs.

“I have your passports. The work is impeccable,” she said as she hung up her jacket and put her messenger bag down.

“Your timing is great. We’re about to have some cocktails on the balcony. Please, come...”

Chiyoh smirked, “You realize you are sounding more and more like Hannibal every day, don’t you?”

Will replayed his last words in his head. He didn’t think so. Perhaps? They continued to influence each other daily -- but it was bound to happen when one is in love, was it not? Surely, he was still Will Graham. The dark clutches of love have not erased the last traces of who he was. No, quite the contrary, they have set him free to present his true self to the world around. Wait, what? Will sighed internally.

“No, I don’t,” he said as he quickly marched toward the balcony with a tiny pout.

**+++**

The newly christened Martin York and Sandro Bustamante looked at each other’s passports with mixed reactions.

“Christ, I look like a kid without my beard,” Will exclaimed. He knew he had to look different from his previous incarnation, but Will really didn’t care for his clean shaven face. It seemed he and Hannibal had swapped looks.

“Yes, you do appear younger, while I have the opposite situation occurring,” Hannibal said with a slight moue. Hannibal had always prided himself in being meticulously groomed. Nary a hair out of place, always freshly shaved. And now, there he stood -- there _Sandro_ stood -- with longer grey hair, a five o’clock shadow, appearing decidedly older.

“You look great,” Will whispered in Hannibal’s ear.

Chiyoh looked at them both and shrugged as she continued to dig into the platter of charcuterie on the table.

“I look like your Sugar Father,” Hannibal exclaimed.

Will did a spit take with his wine, barely holding in his laughter. “Sugar Father! I believe the term you are looking for is Sugar Daddy.”

Hannibal harrumphed, “That sounds even worse.”

Will laughed and then examined his passport more closely. “Hannibal? My middle name is Winston?”

At that moment, it was Chiyoh who did the spit take. “You did not know? Now that is funny!” she said as she wiped her chin. “You named him after a dog, and he did not know.”

Hannibal looked at Will as if he didn’t understand what the problem was. “You picked your first and surname, what is wrong with giving you a middle one? I thought you would be happy to have a small remembrance of your beloved Winston.”

Will shook his head and said, “I give up.”

“So why did you pick a British passport, rather than a Canadian one?” Chiyoh asked.

“Because I can do a perfect English accent,” Will responded in a perfect accent.

Hannibal and Chiyoh stared wide-eyed.

“Will?” Hannibal said as his breath hitched.

“What? I have a good ear, and was an exchange student in Oxford for a year during undergrad,” Will responded, again in a perfect accent.

“Will…” Hannibal said once more.

“Well,” Chiyoh said, “I believe it is now time for me to depart.” She drained her glass of tempranillo and excused herself from the balcony.

“Thank you, Chiyoh,” Will said. Hannibal mutely waved as he entered Will’s personal space.

Will laughed, “I had no idea accents were a thing with you.”

“ _You_ are a thing with me,” Hannibal said as he ran his fingers through Will’s hair.

The newness of their relationship, still fragile and young, did not fail to excite them both. Each one marveling in what they now truly possessed in each other -- guarding their love from the outside world, sharing it fully with one another.

Will chuckled as Hannibal drew him closer, “I also have a Southern accent, you know.” 

Hannibal dotted kisses along Will’s neck, “Is that right?”

“Mmm-hmm…I am from Louisiana after all, _cher_.”

“Come closer, _mon cœur_.”

Their kisses and laughter could be heard from the balcony in the apartment above.


End file.
